


Destiny

by Slutty_Merlin



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M!preg, Morgana is a supportive girlfriend and we love her, Trans Male Character, Uther is Sick and Twisted, merlin whump, season 2 fix, trans!Merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-20 19:34:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18531724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slutty_Merlin/pseuds/Slutty_Merlin
Summary: Just a season two fix-it because I can. Mergana are soft beans and we stan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write trans!Merlin for a loooooooong time.  
> Okay, so, I'm not trans, clearly. Aaaaaaaand, I really hope I don't offend anybody ^^; which is pretty much why I wrote this entire thing in Morgana's POV.
> 
> There will be times where it gets boring, I'm sorry ;A; once we get past Freya, though, it'll be Smooth Sailing, promise. Somewhat. Angsty smooth sailing. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Merlin seems to be doing his very best fish impression when Morgana divulges her fears. To be honest, she expecting nothing less. That’s men, for you.

“Are you still in there?” she asks slowly. “Merlin…?” still, nothing. With a scoff, she turns around and goes to leave.

“Wait!”

The urgency in Merlin’s voice is enough to give her pause. His eyes are wide and wild, his breathing had picked up; he’s panting like he’d just run a kilometer or two. He looks…well, he looks like he’s afraid of her. Morgana’s heart sinks. How could he be afraid of her? She thought they were friends…

“I…” he’s grimacing now. “Just-,” he glances at the door, still slightly ajar. She realises it had been foolish to leave it open. If anyone had heard her frantic whispering…

Merlin takes a deep breath, and-

And his eyes are flashing a brilliant gold. Almost simultaneously, the door slams the rest of the way shut, and the sound startles a squeak out of Morgana. She catches Merlin’s grimace deepening, his normally handsome face twisting almost as if he’s in pain.

“Sorry…” he whispers. “I can make it up to you, though?”

He’s clasping his hands together, then, and whispering something Morgana can barely hear. His eyes once again flash that beautiful gold, and when he opens his hands, a single red rose is there in his palms, and, almost shyly (which is not usually his style. No, he’s not as confident as Arthur, but Morgana’s never known him to be _shy_ either.) he offers it to her.

“You’re not alone, Morgana.” he tells her, and then those captivating blue eyes are boring into her. “I…” he grins, then, and that’s so much more like the Merlin she knows that she finds herself grinning back. “You have no idea, how difficult it’s been keeping this secret, I just…I feel a lot freer, now? If it’s magic, which I’ve no doubt that it is, it feels…amazing, to have a friend in the same position as me. To know that I’m not alone, anymore.”

She’s not sure what drives her to do it. But something has her running over to him, wrapping her arms around him,

“Thank you.” she whispers.

“Don’t thank me.” he tells her, and his arms (deceptively thin, for how strong they feel) wrap around her waist. “It’s the least I can offer.”

“You’re a good friend.” she tells him, grinning softly up at him as she pulls away. “Will…” she hesitates a moment, furrowing her brow as she considers her next question. “Will you teach me?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know _much_ , he admits. But I’ll teach you what I know. We can learn together. Promise.”

And suddenly, she’s very grateful that she has him in her life.

 

They spend _hours_ together, after the castle has retired for the night, whispering and giggling, hoping to the gods above that they don’t get caught.

“So, is this why you left Ealdor?” she asks him suddenly. They don’t have to be back for some time, it’s only just past midnight, and neither of them could focus. So there they lay, on the forest floor, staring up at the stars through the trees.

“Partly.” he answers. And something about that seems… _off_. The way he’d said it, the way he begins to wring his hands together afterwards.

“And the other part…?” she pushes gently. Maybe something had happened. She knows his mother is fine, she’d just seen him only months prior, when his village was being attacked by Kanen and his men. The only real friend he seemed to have had was Will, whose death she knows still saddens him horribly.

“I’d rather…” he grimaces, then. “I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s okay with you…”

“Alright.”

And that’s the end of that.

But…she _does_ get her answer, weeks later.

Just not the answer she’d expected. She has a habit of walking in unannounced. Gaius seems to be out- (he’d not been happy to learn of the mischief, and their lessons. For both their safety, of course, but if Uther were to find out about _Morgana_  well, he was certainly fond of her, definitely fonder of her than he was of Merlin. Even without the magic lessons, if the king were to find out about their running off in the dead of the night, he’d surely have Merlin’s head. But, though Gaius still worries, he came round eventually.)- at the moment.

“Merlin? Are you in here?” she calls softly. She smiles gently at the telltale shout and crashing noises coming from his chambers. Clumsy, as always. Again, her habit of not knocking rears its head, as she just barges into his chambers. The thought that he might be undressed had crossed her mind, but she’s hoping for the best.

Only, it seems a lot more goes into dressing for him than it would for any ordinary man.

He looks up at her, panicked, as she freezes. His bindings are only half done, his breeches around his ankles still, and though he’s wearing smallclothes, there’s a lack of any form of a bulge, that most men have. It’s…strange, really. Nothing about him seems feminine.

But, now that she thinks of it, he’s not exactly the picture of masculinity, either.

“I…” he looks about ready to cry. Hastily, he pulls up his breeches, and his hands shake as he attempts to finish his bindings.

Carefully, she approaches, lays her hands on his.

“May I?” she asks, gently, offering a small, hopefully comforting smile as she attempts to catch his eye. His fish impression from all those weeks ago is back, and after a moment, he’s nodding, avoiding her eyes once more.

“Let me know if it’s too tight.” she murmurs, and sets to work rewrapping his bindings for him. She steps back when she’s done, averting her eyes as he pulls his tunic on.

“Thanks…” he whispers. Suddenly, she knows why he insists on wearing that ridiculous neckerchief at all times. The bindings peek out from behind the loose lacing of his tunic.

“Don’t mention it.”

Later, when they’ve both calmed down from the shock, and when Merlin no longer looks like he’s going to burst into tears at any given moment, he explains.

“I’m not a woman.” he tells her quietly. They remain in the physician’s chambers, sitting quietly at the table, picking at sweet bread as they talk. “I mean- I am, physically, I guess.” there’s that grimace, again.

(Morgana has a strange desire to kiss it away.)

“I just…” he sighs. “Ever since I was little, it was like- like I was in the wrong body. I always hated wearing dresses, always wore trousers where I could get away with it. When I was six or seven, Mother caught me trying to cut my own hair as short as I possibly could. I think…I explained it to her, I believe, and, I…I expected her to be angry? But all she’d said was that if I wanted a haircut, to ask her.” he smiles fondly at the memory. “To outsiders, I was introduced as her son. And then, when I told Will, he just said, ‘well, duh’.”

Morgana can’t stop the giggle that escapes her, at that.

“It’s not that I _want_ to be a man, I- I _am_ a man. You know?”

“I don’t know.” Morgana answers, truthfully. When his face falls, she’s quick to add, “I don’t _know_ , because I can’t, because I’ve never experienced what you feel. But I do understand. And, for what it’s worth, Merlin, you’re the handsomest man in Camelot.”

His grin is absolutely _blinding_.

She comes to find out that the only ones who know are herself, Gaius, and Hunith. She vows to protect his secret with her life, even from Arthur, if need be, and if Uther were to find out…there’s no telling what he’d do to him. He certainly wouldn’t understand. He’d merely see a woman masquerading as a man…

Morgana shudders to think of the possibilities.

 

* * *

 

 

She hates to leave him. There’s a part of her that almost marches to Arthur’s chambers, to ask if she might borrow his manservant for a spell. But, Gwen was already coming with her, and asking for Merlin, well, that might arouse deadly suspicion. She’s sure they can manage a few days of separation.

Right?

Until…well. Until they’re attacked. At that moment, she freezes, though she knows she’s skilled, both with the sword and with her abilities, she know she’s nowhere near as subtle as Merlin, and she trusts Gwen, truly, she does. But…she doesn’t want Gwen to know. They’re best friends, certainly, but Gwen was fed the same lies about magic they all were since birth. She doesn’t want her best friend looking at her like some kind of monster. Now, more than ever, she wishes for Merlin’s presence. She doesn’t normally find herself needing the protection of a man, (she can take care of herself _thankyouverymuch_ ) but now, she wants nothing more than to feel the strong arms of the man she, well…of the man she _loves_ , wrap around her. She wants him to tell her everything will be okay.

My, how the tables have turned for them.

Still, she’s smart. She can figure out a way out of this, for both her and Gwen. Because, if she doesn’t, well…she doesn’t want to think of what they’ll do to Gwen. Surely she won’t survive this.

All her hopes are dashed when it’s only her that escapes. She…she doesn’t know how she’ll live with herself, if they kill Gwen.

Merlin sits just outside the screen as she changes, after they return to Camelot.

“Maybe…maybe she’s still alive.” he says, softly. “After all, the man that sent ransom note- Hengist, I think Arthur said- has never seen you before, has he? The bandits value their lives, don’t they? They could always trick him into thinking Gwen is you…”

She doesn’t want to answer him. She’s afraid that if she tries to speak, she’ll break down in tears, like a bloody child. She doesn’t want that. She…she’s always _his_ comfort, not the other way around.

“Morgana…?”

But perhaps, it’s alright to allow her pride to bend, just a little.

“Merlin…” she whispers. “It’s my fault.” she rounds the corner, and he stands immediately. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, hey, don’t say that.” she doesn’t argue when he pulls her into a hug. “It’s not your fault, Morgana. Not at all.”

“If I had used my magic, I-,”

“With Uther’s men surrounding you, and Gwen there as well? Who’s to say what would’ve happened?” his hand cards through her hair. “It’ll be alright. I promise you.”

 

It’s not enough, she supposes, that the gods would make her worry for Gwen, but for Merlin, as well. After one particularly horrible nightmare, (one that she’s not sure is her powers as a Seer or just her own fears) she finds herself sitting up with Gaius. It must be near dawn, at that point, as they sit, sipping tea.

“I’m so scared, Gaius…” she whispers.

“I know.” he murmurs. “But, you must know, Arthur and Merlin will bring her back.”

“I know, I know that much, Gaius.” she tells him. “I’m scared for her, yes, but I’m scared for Merlin, too. Every day I’m scared for him. Not just for his magic, but…”

“Welcome to my world.” he grunts, and smiles gently at her. “But for all that the clumsy, bubble-headed idiot he presents himself as, Merlin always seems to make it out okay.”

That definitely brings the fond smile to her face.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

 

Still, that doesn’t stop her from chewing her lip raw as she awaits their return. Every day that passes, she finds herself more and more restless, floating about the palace in a haze. Practising spells doesn’t feel the same, without Merlin there. Her replacement maidservant is nice enough, she supposes, but it’s not _Gwen_.

And so her heart feels like it might leap out of her chest when she sees Gwen, when she can wrap her arms around the kindest woman she’s ever had the pleasure of knowing. She never wants to let go, not ever again.

“Merlin is with Gaius.” Gwen tells her, after they finally separate themselves from one another, and sends her a knowing glance that most certainly does not make Morgana blush. Not one bit.

Regardless, minutes later, Merlin finds himself with his arms full of sorceress. And by the _gods_ , does it feel good to have those arms wrapped around her again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana has her first magical adventure with Gaius and Merlin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate this chapter, truly. 
> 
> Good luck :)

Despite Merlin telling her that it’s fine, he’s fine, Morgana can’t help feeling guilty. During the day, he’s running errands for Gaius, working for Arthur. At night, they study together. The man is obviously _exhausted._  She can see it in his face, in the way his shoulders sag.

And now, with the Lady Catrina visiting, he’s got to be even busier than normal. When he sheepishly asks if they can take a hiatus from their lessons, she all but sags in relief, because if the exhaustion didn’t kill him, Morgana might.

Still, he seems to be in high spirits. Catrina treats him better than most of Uther’s guests, so Morgana doesn’t blame him in the slightest.

He’s rambling about it, as Morgana enters Gaius’ chambers, and she can barely suppress a giggle.

“Her and Uther seem to be hitting it off, as well.” she puts in. “You should see him try to flirt with her.”

“Good, maybe she’ll make him bearable.” Merlin mutters.

“Merlin.” Gaius warns. Morgana has to stifle another giggle, earning the infamous Cocked Eyebrow of Doom from Gaius when she fails. “Merlin, take this to Lady Catrina, please.”

Both of them stifle a groan of frustration as he holds up a vial of purplish looking liquid. Morgana _just_ got there, wanted to spend at least a little time with Merlin, and he probably wanted to collapse into bed and take those bindings off to let his chest breathe as soon as he was able.

“What is it?”

“She’ll know what it is.” Gaius replies. Strange, he’s not normally so cryptic. No, that’s the Great Dragon’s job. (Though Morgana doesn’t necessarily _like_ that cranky old lizard. He’s quite rude.)

“But what is it?” the teens ask in unison, offering matching smiles of Total Innocence when Gaius fixes him with his equally well known look: Utterly Unimpressed.

“Okay, okay.” Merlin says, and has Morgana mentioned just how dazzling his smile is? “Be right back. Wait for me?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here.”

And, by the gods, _why_ did her heart go all aflutter at just that question alone.

Gaius refuses to say anything on the matter, until Merlin returns. With nothing else to talk about, she retrieves Merlin’s book from their hiding places and goes over the spell that’s been giving her the most trouble as of late.

When Merlin does return, he seems bemused. The vial Gaius gave him remains uncorked, in is hand.

“She didn’t need it.” he reports. “Didn’t even want it.” Morgana casts a questioning glance at Gaius.

“I see.” Gaius murmurs. “I’ve treated her since she was a child, for a rare and incurable bone disease that gave her trouble walking, especially after long rides. My tonic was the only thing that made her feel comfortable.”

Oh…

_Oh!_

“I don’t suppose it just healed itself.” Morgana mutters. “So the Lady Catrina, might not even be the Lady Catrina at all?”

“Precisely.”

 

Merlin and Morgana keep a close eye on her, after that, trying to suss out who she could be. Merlin doubts that she’s even human. Her bed hadn’t been slept in at all, reportedly, and he could _swear_ he’d seen Jonas with a tail.

He insists on following her one night, because sure, why not ensure that Morgana cannot bloody sleep with the fear for his well-being eating her alive and keeping her awake? She and Gaius anxiously await his return, he feet tucked underneath her to shield them from the cold floor.

When he comes back, he looks like he might be sick.

A troll. Lady Catrina is a troll. Or at least a troll is pretending to be Lady Catrina.

“It makes no sense.” Merlin mutters. His face is still screwed up like he’s smelled something rotten. The stench of the troll’s hidey-hole must be sticking with him. Actually, Morgana thinks she can catch a faint whiff of it herself. “If trolls prefer to dwell in caves and feed on rot and filth, as you say, why’s she here in Camelot?”

“Trolls are greedy, they lust after wealth and power.”

“Uther’s wealth and power.” Morgana murmurs.

“Exactly.”

Gaius sighs, stands up from his chair, muttering, “We’ve reached the point of no return. I have to tell Uther.”

Morgana laughs at that. Gaius gives her a look as serious as death.

“You’re not joking?” she asks, incredulous.

“You’re going to tell Uther that his new lady friend is a troll?” Merlin sounds just as uncertain as Morgana feels.

“Yes.”

“Good luck.” Morgana mutters, once again in unison with Merlin.

A heavy silence settles over them.

“I feel like I need about twenty baths.” Merlin grouses.

Morgana can sympathise.

 

And when Gaius’ plan goes about as well as one would expect, Morgana and Merlin both have to bite their tongues to keep from saying that they told him so.

She must have Uther enchanted. It’s the only explanation. Not even Morgana could broach the subject. They could tell him until they were blue in the face, but there was no way the king would listen. Morgana knew he had pride, but not that much pride.

They’ll have to expose her for who she is. By using magic. In front of the king.

Correction, _Merlin_ will have to use magic in front of the king. Somehow without being caught. Both of them had told her it was too risky for her to try to help, and no matter how much of a fight she puts up, they wouldn’t budge.

Doesn’t stop her, anyway.

But not even combined magic was strong enough to reveal her, when they announced their _bloody engagement_.

To make matters worse, Merlin goes missing not long after.

And the union between man and troll goes off without a hitch.

When Merlin resurfaces, he absolutely _reeks_. He’s covered in rot, and filth.

She doesn’t blame him when he bathes for about two hours.

 

Not even Arthur believes them. Again, their combined efforts seem absolutely useless. What’s worse, is that Arthur dares to patronise her by blaming her feelings for Merlin, when she takes his side.

Good looking country boys, indeed.

(She’s not disagreeing, but it still annoys her.)

He says it again when she screeches at him for trying to arrest him. She’ll blame his irritation on Catrina’s near constant undermining.

“Gaius, what if he can’t outrun them?” she’s asking, frantic, as she closes the door to his chambers behind her. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“You know, I had a similar conversation with Guinevere.”

“Gaius!”

“I wouldn’t worry, My Lady.” he seems awfully cavalier about the whole thing, moving about as if his bloody ward doesn’t have a warrant out for his arrest.

“Gaius! I’m serious, this is— he could be killed!”

And then she’s shrieking, as he pops out of a barrel.

“Who could be killed?”

Damn him. Damn his bloody grin as he hops out and dusts himself off.

“Merlin!” she hisses. “You stupid, stupid idiot!” she can’t resist smacking him, over and over again, and the arse is _laughing_ at her as he shields himself.

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like Arthur.” he teases. And then his hands are around her wrists, gripping, but somehow, it’s still gentle. “Don’t worry. We left a trail, they’re buying it, and Gaius has a plan. I just need to pick my moment.”

“This had better work…”

 

In the meantime, things go from bad to worse, under the reign of Queen Troll Catrina. She’s cruel indeed, taxing the town to starvation, but Arthur seems to be the one paying the price.

It doesn’t happen all at once, or it doesn’t seem like it does. But the suddenness of it…

Arthur is to be relinquished of his title. Catrina is named heir to the throne.

Like she needs it. She has Uther wrapped around her finger.

Morgana prays that Merlin hurries. She prays he makes it out alright.

It takes one entire day for him to find her potion. It takes another day for Gaius to brew something that tastes and smells the same. And while it shouldn’t be funny, when Merlin has to taste-test, Morgana can’t help but think that it serves him right, for scaring her. One more day passes, and he’s switched out the bottles.

Oh, perfect, right in time for the coronation.

Perhaps it’s morbid curiosity that prompts Morgana to follow, as Catrina runs from the throne room, crown firmly placed on her head. Morgana has, after all, yet to see what she looks like in troll form. She can sense Merlin’s presence nearby, watching from the shadows as Queen Catrina morphs into Troll Catrina, shrieking and moaning horribly.

She doesn’t have to pretend to be shocked, because to say Catrina is ugly, is to understate the entire situation. It’s hard to even look at her. And the _stench_. Not to mention, Morgana finds herself nearly flattened by the door that had been ripped off its hinges. She’s sure her eyes are comically wide, her mouth still open in shock. She catches Merlin’s eye, and he nods at her, lips pressed together in a thin line.

And yet, Uther doesn't see a troll. He sees his beautiful wife. Interesting.

 

They rendezvous in Arthur’s chambers later, with an idea to break the enchantment Troll Queen holds over Uther. She waltzes in just as Merlin is popping out from underneath the bed, and Arthur’s saying,

“You’ve been under there the whole time.”

Without skipping a beat Morgana butts in with, “Of course not, he’s been under my bed.” earning an indignant squawk from Merlin, and a choked sound from Arthur.

“I have _not_.” Merlin insists. “I’ve been hiding out in a barrel, actually. It’s quite comfortable, you should give it a try.”

“I’ll have to pass, but thanks.”

A heavy silence settles over them as Arthur settles at his desk.

“So…” Merlin starts. “Your stepmother is a troll.”

“If you say ‘I told you so’…”

“I’m not going to. I wouldn’t.”

“I would.” Morgana says. “In fact I will. I told you so.”

“Happy?” Merlin asks.

“Very.”

“I’m glad.”

“If you two are done flirting.” Arthur sighs, irritated. “Is there a reason for this visit?”

“There is, in fact.” Merlin says, walking over to the desk and bracing his hands on it as he leans a bit closer.

(Morgana really is enjoying the view, but she won’t say anything.)

“We— that’s Gaius, Morgana, and I— believe your father is enchanted. Now, we know a way to break the enchantment, but…”

“But, basically, you have to die.” Morgana chimes in.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You won’t _really_ die.” Merlin insists. “You’ll just _look_ like you’re dead. Now, we’ll have to act quickly, or else there is a small, I mean absolutely miniscule chance that you might, possibly, actually die. Gaius has made a potion that gives the appearance of death without the actual dying bit. Morgana?” she holds up the vial in question, and he nods. “I just have to administer the antidote in time.”

“Right.” Arthur says. “And I’m entrusting _you_ with the antidote.”

“Me and Gaius.”

“Gods have mercy on me.” Arthur mutters. “Alright. Just. Give me the bloody vial.”

 

As Merlin sneaks off to grab the antidote, Morgana dashes off to find Uther.

“My Lord! Come quickly!” she cries. Again, her panic is something she doesn’t have to fake.

“Morgana, good heavens, what is it?” he’s half standing already.

“It’s Arthur!”

They rush off to Arthur’s chambers together, Gaius already waiting inside.

And, honestly, it’s surreal to see Arthur like that. Still, looking as if he’s not breathing. And…well. As Uther holds the body of his only son close, as he breaks down in tears, she finds it impossible to remain dry-eyed herself. Uther may be a bastard, but he really does love his son.

At least the enchantment is broken. At least, he can see Catrina for what she really is. A huge, gray, stinking troll, with the body of a tree trunk. He looks about ready to vomit.

But still, no Merlin.

_‘Gods’ sake, Merlin, where are you…?’_

As if answering her thoughts, there he is, neckerchief no longer around his neck, but in his hands, and damp.

Uther is just distracted enough for Merlin to slip past, kneel over the prince and squeeze his neckerchief.

“What happened?” Morgana hisses, joining him on the floor.

“Jonas happened, I’m assuming. Vial broke. Had to mop it up with this.” he purses his lips in effort. “Come on, come on…”

Just one drop falls into Arthur’s mouth.

One drop is enough.

(And if Morgana and Merlin use their magic to aid in executing Jonas and the troll, nobody notices.)

 

“So, that was…” Merlin starts.

“A very eventful couple of weeks.” Morgana finishes.

They walk together through the corridors, Merlin finally having found some semblance of free time to spend with her.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever begin to forget that smell, but I’ll live.”

“Merlin!”

They both hold back a groan and an eye roll as Arthur jogs to catch up with them, but they both turn to greet him.

“I just wanted you to know, I never doubted you.”

Both of them raise an eyebrow.

“Okay, first of all, stop doing everything in sync, you two, it’s weird.” Arthur grunts. “Second of all, yeah, okay, sorry, I _did_ doubt you a little. But you’ve got a suspicious look about you, Merlin. Like you’ve something to hide.”

“Who, Merlin?” Morgana scoffs.

“I’m an open book.” Merlin says, and his eyes suggest innocence, but the barely there turn up at the corner of his mouth suggests the mischief about him that Morgana loves so much.

“Don’t believe it for a second.” Arthur replies. “Regardless, I just wanted to say thank you, for trying to open my eyes. And for not saying ‘I told you so’, _Morgana._ ”

“It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

Again, _damn_ that bloody grin.

Arthur lets out a huff, that Morgana thinks was supposed to be a chuckle, and goes to clap Merlin on the back, pulling away when Merlin goes in for a hug.

(To be fair, Morgana thinks, it _had_ looked an awful lot like Arthur was indeed going in for a hug.)

“What are you doing?”

“I thought you were going for a hug.”

“No…”

Slowly, they lower their hands. Arthur walks away. Morgana blinks up at Merlin, smiles, and holds her arms up.

“I’ll hug you.”

“Knew I could always count on you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aredian arrives and Morgana is having None of It.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find this chapter exceedingly dull, and much too short.
> 
> But here we are.
> 
> Enter Kilgharrah! *eyes emoji*

Sometimes, for all the power and wit he possesses, Morgana wonders just how Merlin can be so bloody _stupid_ sometimes.

Men, honestly.

She and Gaius _both_ scowl at him as the court is gathered, listening to a woman speak to the king of a horse conjured from smoke. If the action itself didn’t prove Merlin guilty in Morgana’s eyes, the sheepish look he’s sending to the floor certainly did.

She schools her features, sends a soft, comforting smile to the woman.

“Perhaps it was a trick of the light.” she offers.”Maybe your eyes deceived you.”

“No, the smoke…it was alive, I swear…”

“I’ll hunt down those responsible, Father.” Arthur comments. He’s got that tone in his voice, that _‘yeah, whatever father, I’ll do what you say, and tell you I did the thing but really let it go because this is_ **_stupid_ **’ expression on his face.

“No. Stronger methods are called for.”

Honestly. It was a _horse_ made of _smoke_.

“Send for the Witchfinder.”

Morgana barely notices the hush that falls over the room, at that. She only notices that her heart beats faster and faster inside her chest, and when she meets Merlin’s eyes, he looks as startled as she feels.

“Sire, surely we don’t need to jump to such drastic measures.” Gaius argues. He looks remarkably calm, but Morgana knows that inside, he’s just as panicked.

“Aredian is a trusted ally in the war against magic.” Uther insists. “I want him to be sent for immediately.”

 

She knows it’s probably a bad idea to follow Gaius and Merlin, she knows he’s about to be shouted at enough as it is, but _honestly_ , that boy sometimes.

“What were you thinking?” she demands. Merlin is left to close the door behind the three.

“You nearly got yourself caught! Really, how many times have I told you that your magic is to be guarded with your life?” Gaius adds.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Clearly, you don’t know!” Morgana hisses.

“I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

“Well, think, boy, think!” Gaius huffs.

She almost feels bad for ganging up on him, at the look on his face.

“Who is this witchfinder, anyway?” Morgana asks.

“I know him as Aredian. He’s tenacious. He’s a force to be reckoned with. Both of you, hide the book somewhere only you two can find it.”

They nod at him.

“And whatever you do, lay low.”

 

She finds herself losing sleep, in the days awaiting Aredian’s arrival. She lays awake, the fear of nightmares and her vivid imagination keeping her from sleeping. Her and Merlin are a ball of nervous energy, though they try not to show it. They’d come to the decision to stay away from each other, once Aredian arrived in Camelot, up until they know he’s gone. They won’t risk each others’ safety like that.

The night he comes is cold, windy. It howls and rattles her window, and nothing she does keeps her warm.

That cage…that awful, awful cage…

It certainly doesn’t take him long, to draw up witnesses, either. Once again, Morgana finds herself meeting Merlin’s eyes in the council chambers, sharing looks of confusion. Neither of them had done a thing pertaining to their abilities, since they learned of Aredian’s imminent arrival. Too risky. Morgana feels, no, she _knows_ this man is lying. But the women…they sound so convincing…they look so scared. As if they really had seen those things. But faces in the well, a goblin in a fire, and toads, _toads!_ Popping out of a sorcerer’s mouth. Morgana doesn’t believe it for a second.

But still. He has a suspect.

Oh, gods, he has a suspect.

_‘Stay calm, Morgana…’_

“The facts point to one person, and one person alone. In fact, he’s with us, in this room. The boy, Merlin!”

Morgana feels as though she might faint. No, please, anyone, _anyone_ , besides Merlin!

“Merlin.” Arthur states incredulously. “You can’t be serious.”

“You’ve no proof.” Gaius cuts in, voice even.

“Then we’ll search the boy’s chambers.” Aredian answers, and suddenly, Morgana goes from feeling faint, to wanting to smack that smug look off his face. The nerve…

“I’ve nothing to hide from him.” announces Merlin.

Morgana watches, helpless, as he’s restrained by the guards.

 

Of course, she weasels her way down to see him as his chambers are searched.

And, oh, she hates seeing him like this. Caged, like an animal.

“Are you alright?” she whispers. She can’t help but reach through the bars of the cell, relaxing only minimally when his hands clasp hers.

“I’m fine.” he whispers back. “So long as it’s me and not you.”

“Merlin!”

“Morgana, I’m serious. If…if I’m to…”

“Don’t. Merlin, don’t think like that. We…we’ll get you out of this, we-,”

“Morgana, please. If something is to happen, just…make sure Arthur is protected.”

“That’s your priority right now!?” Morgana demands. “Damn it, Merlin! Your _life_ is at stake.”

“And the fate of Albion rests on his shoulders.” he answers, evenly. “I’m not sure how this whole destiny thing works, but if it’s something I can pass on…there’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll do a wonderful job, helping him unite Albion, restoring magic to the land. If anyone can do it, you can.”

“It’s supposed to be _you_.” Morgana insists.

“I know.” he sighs. “I know. But just in case, Morgana, please, just…”

She hesitates.

 _‘No, Morgana, do_ **_not_ ** _cry.’_

“I promise.”

“Thank you. You should go. You’ll be implicated too, if they see us talking.”

“I…alright. Be careful, Merlin.”

“You, too.”

As she lets go, turns to walk away, he stops her.

“Morgana, I…”

“Yes?”

“…Nothing, nevermind. Stay safe.”

 

She’s the first person he seeks out when he’s released. And, _oh_ , she’s so happy to see him, alive, unharmed, a free man. But…

“Gaius.” he croaks. “They’ve got Gaius.”

“What do you mean?”

So much for the lack of panic…

“I…”

She accompanies him, to his chambers. And, by the gods, is the place a mess. Papers strewn about the floor, broken glass littering just about the entire room, several tonics and potions have been spilled.

Merlin is deadly quiet. He’s carefully walking through the wreckage, his back turned as to not let Morgana see his face.

“Merlin?” she calls, quietly, her traitorous voice trembling out of her.

He turns, then, and previously unshed tears spill out of Morgana’s eyes when she looks upon his face. He looks _broken_.

“Come here.” she whispers. And she swears, he’s never been so quick to embrace her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he all but shakes apart with broken sobs.

“He’s the closest thing to a father I’ve ever known.” he whispers.

“I know, Merlin. I know…”

It’s all she can do to hold him, smooth his hair down and shush him, try to soothe him, even as she, too, weeps for his guardian, her physician, their friend and teacher.

 

It’s not often that Morgana accompanies Merlin on the short journey to the Great Dragon’s prison. She’s not particularly fond of the dragon, and she has an inkling that the feeling is mutual. But in this particular case, even though they’d said they should stay away from each other in the duration of Aredian’s stay, she doesn’t want to leave Merlin’s side. And, though he doesn’t say it, she knows he’s grateful for the company, the hand to hold to keep him grounded.

“What is wrong?” the dragon greets. “You both seem so pale.”

“I did something.” Merlin quavers. “Something unbelievably stupid. And now Gaius is paying the price for it.”

“Gaius means nothing to me.” states the Dragon, nonchalant. Why that cranky old—

“Well he means a great deal to us!” Morgana shouts.

If he could roll his eyes, Morgana is certain that the Dragon would.

“Very well.” he sighs. “What happened?”

“A witchfinder has come.” Morgana tells him. “And he’s arrested Gaius for sorcery.”

“But _I’m_ the sorcerer.” Merlin insists.

“Yes, I suppose you are.”

This is why Morgana hates coming down here.

“I’m going to confess.” Merlin insists, and Morgana whips her head over to look at him.

“Then your stupidity continues.” the Dragon mutters.

“When, pray tell, were you planning on telling me this?” Morgana demands.

“I won’t sacrifice a friend to save myself!” insists Merlin.

“Gaius is already doomed.” the Dragon reminds him. “If you confess, the witchfinder will just burn you both.”

“But it’s my fault!” for the first time in hours, Merlin’s voice is back to that strong, confident baritone Morgana knows so well.

“I understand.” the Dragon says. “All too well, Young Warlock. But need I remind you, that if you were to die, you would endanger the lives of all that rely on you.”

“I hate to admit it…” Morgana murmurs. “But he’s right. Not to mention, you’re not allowed to die.”

“Oh, I’m not, am I?”

“Nope.”

“Good to know.” he huffs. “But there must be something I can do. Please…help me.”

“I cannot help you.” the Dragon sounds…actually saddened by this. “Because I don’t know how to.”

“I can’t just stand by and watch Gaius be burned!”

“I am sorry…”

And Morgana truly believes that he is.

 

She tells herself to remain calm, when Aredian wishes to speak with her. It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine! But with how Gaius has been tortured, if it’s anything like she’s heard, it’s awful, who knows what he said? She trusts him. With her life, she trusts him! But torture is…well, it’s a tricky thing.

And these…implements, that he’s toying with. The man himself. He has a predatory gaze, but not like what she receives from visiting knights, and lords. No, he doesn’t lust after her body. The only lust he feels he need gorge himself in, is for blood. Hers, Gaius’, Merlin’s, doesn’t matter. So long as the hunter kills his prey, he’s happy.

And yet…despite her fears, all he asks her, is about Gaius’ treatment for her nightmares. That’s it. That’s all he needs to know.

So why does she suddenly felt as if she’s betrayed Gaius, as she leaves the…interrogation?

“You alright?” Merlin whispers to her, catching up to her in the corridors.

“Yes, yes I’m fine…”

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I…I just feel weird, about all of that.”

“Weird, how?”

“Like I’ve been tricked, somehow. I didn’t say anything to implicate myself, or Gaius, I don’t think. I…I don’t know Merlin. Something about this seems…off, more so than it already did.”

“I agree…”

 

She can’t look at Merlin’s face, as Gaius is forced to confess, because she knows as soon as she does she’ll break down into tears. She knows that he’s lying. Lying, perhaps, to protect them. From what little she can see of Merlin, she can see his chest heaving, and next to him, Gwen looks ready to cry.

And Uther just…sentences him to death, just like that. As if he’d not been treating Morgana since childhood, as if he’s not one of Uther’s oldest friends. The more she learns of Uther in her young adult life, the more she thinks he’s not actually capable of having friends.

And then, _gods_ , and then Merlin snaps into action, as the guards drag his guardian away.

“You’re a liar!” he shouts. “It’s all a lie! Gaius is innocent!” for a moment, it almost seems as if he’s going to be successful in rushing Aredian, and, doing what? Punching him? The man makes a living killing people like Merlin and Morgana, for the fun of it. She can sense it in his very soul, he likes inflicting pain, he likes results, even if they’re not true, even if they’re coerced.

Not for the first time, she’s glad Arthur’s there to hold Merlin’s temper in check, rarely provoked though it may be. Yet she shudders at the thought of having to talk Uther round. He’ll know doubt be angry for a servant’s outburst.

 

He comes for her, again. Sneaks up on her as she watches them set up the pyre to be used the next day.

And this time, he’s ruthless. She only barely makes it through without breaking.

It makes her angry enough that she accompanies Merlin when he plants magical evidence in Aredian’s chambers, just as he’d done to Gaius.

They’re about to leave, when Merlin pauses, sneaks up to the man asleep in his bed, and whispers an incantation.

“What was that?” Morgana asks softly.

He winks at her.

“You’ll see.”

 

She wrings her hands together in the morning. She sincerely hopes that Gwen and Merlin can get Arthur to stop the execution.

Otherwise…

No, she doesn’t dare think of it.

Her heart sinks in relief when they’re called to court. Merlin, though clearly nervous, holds his ground. The tincture of belladonna, however, is not nearly enough.

“Pathetic. Clearly the boy’s doing whatever he can to save the life of his master!” Aredian accuses, but Morgana notes the nervous edge to his voice.

And Merlin’s glare, is single handedly the scariest, and yet most attractive Morgana has seen out of him thus far.

“Then you don’t mind if we search your chambers.” he mocks.

“Quiet, boy!” Uther shouts. “You’ve no authority, here!”

Why’s _he_ getting angry? It’s not him that’s being accused, after all.

 _‘Thank gods that Arthur is the voice of bloody reason.’_ is something she finds herself thinking more and more often these days. Maybe Uther’s _finally_ going mad, and will _finally_ die, and Arthur can _finally_ take his damned place on the throne. Camelot will certainly be better off; another thought that enters Morgana’s mind at least once a day.

She already knows what’s going to happen, when they search Aredian’s chambers. She helped plant the evidence, after all. Books, poorly hidden on the table, braceletes, and more belladonna tinctures hidden in the cupboard, plus the trick up Merlin’s sleeve.

She has to stifle a laugh, at the look on Aredian’s face, as their evidence is discovered. She commends herself for a job well done when she manages to keep a straight face.

“It’s a trick! That boy plots against me!”

Merlin’s innocent look is _priceless_.

Aredian attempts to say more, and really, it’s a valiant effort, but something seems to be lodged in his throat. He chokes, and he gasps, and he gags, and coughs. He doubles over in what seems to be an effort to not vomit.

And then, a toad. A _toad_ , popping out of his mouth, and falling to the floor. Morgana doesn’t know whether to be amused or disgusted, but when she glances back at Merlin, he sends her another wink, and she has to bite her lip to hold back a grin.

But then, his expression melts into one of horror, and for half a second, she’s confused, and then, oh, yes, that’s a knife, pressed to her neck. She’s not about to cry, no way.

There’s Merlin’s glare again.

There’s words being spoken, but they’re muddled, Morgana can’t hear them over the ringing in her ears. All she can focus on is Merlin, the anger he so obviously feels and the way he frantically looks around for something he can do. When his gaze zeroes in, when his eyes flash gold, she knows she’s safe, even before the knife hits the ground.

She runs to safety, and, though she knows there’s going to be questions asked, well, and excuse her language, _fuck it_. She runs straight to Merlin’s arms.

“You okay?” he whispers. She doesn’t trust her voice, can only nod, and thankfully, Merlin’s arms stay wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

There’s a crash, and they both look over just in time to see Aredian disappear out the window.

For the first time in days, Morgana relaxes.

 

It’s another one of those nights, where she’s too wired to sleep. And she knows it’s the same for Merlin, at least. Maybe Gaius, but he’s getting on a bit so there’s no telling, exactly. Still, she finds herself in their chambers, all three of them seated as comfortably as they can be, steaming cups of tea warming their hands and their bellies.

“So, how, pray tell…” Gaius starts. “Did you know Aredian kept all his trinkets in his chambers? I trust you two had nothing to do with that at all?”

“Just a hunch, I guess.” Merlin supplies.

“Maybe he wasn’t as smart as we all thought.” Morgana muses, ever the picture of innocence.

“Mm, perhaps. And the toad?”

Yeah, okay, Morgana has to break character for that one. Even Merlin grins cheekily.

“Honestly, I was wondering the same thing. I think that was a touch too far, darling.”

(She’s not sure if it’s her imagination or not, but she thinks she sees the tips of Merlin’s ears turn a subtle shade of pink at her endearment.)

“I’m sorry.” he laughs. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Both of you.” Gaius admonishes. “Honestly.”

“Okay…” Morgana sighs.

“We won’t try to save your life ever again.” Merlin swears.

“Promise?”

“Absolutely.” Morgana says.

But at the end of the day, she’s exceptionally glad they can laugh it off. At least they’ve survived, right?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur accepts a challenge, and Morgana and Merlin are having none of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI MORGAUSE
> 
> again, I really hate this chapter.
> 
> But like, there'll be actual plot next chapter, I promise.

Words cannot describe Morgana’s hatred for knighting ceremonies. She finds them exceptionally boring. And Uther says the same damn thing every time. Blah blah, honour and glory, blah blah, knight’s code, blah blah, I’m a huge dick.

Okay, maybe he doesn’t say the last part. But it’s what Morgana hears every time he opens his mouth lately.

Honestly, must she attend these?

From the look on Merlin’s face, he thinks so too. At least Morgana has him to make silly faces at, and to roll her eyes with. At one point, he mouthed, ‘Kill. Me.’ at her, and when she failed to stifle her giggle, she had to pass it off as a cough.

Even Arthur seems bored, tonight. In fact, the only ones who really wish to be at the ceremony, are the new knights being sworn in, and Uther. She prays for something interesting, as she always does, while Merlin looks like he’s nodding off where he stands.

And then, as if the gods were granting her prayers (for once), there’s the sound of distant screaming, of swords clashing.

Not quite the distraction she’d hoped for— bloodshed isn’t normally her style— but a distraction nonetheless. The doors are thrown open, and in strides a knight, but…hm. Something seems off about him, or possibly even her. The newcomer doesn’t utter a single sound, not one! But they stride up to Arthur, pull their gauntlet off, and throw it at his feet.

Of course, who is he to not accept? Morgana feels as if he’s been thinking the same thing as she— please _gods_ let something happen tonight. And this, well, it’s right up his alley. She’s faith in Arthur. He’s the best warrior in the Five Kingdoms, after all.

But, still. This knight…

“If I’m to duel you, might you bestow upon me the courtesy of seeing my challenger’s face?” he probably doesn’t _mean_ to sound cocky, to Morgana he just sounds sleepy, but, such is life.

The newcomer gives a shrug as if to say, _very well_ , and pulls off their helm. And, aha! Morgana was right! She is a woman!

“My name is Morgause.”

But there’s something else…something familiar about her. Morgana can’t…quite put her finger on it. But something inside her _knows_ this woman, Morgause. Maybe it’s magic, which is always a possibility. But, when she looks to Merlin, expecting to see the same thing written on his face, all she sees is interest, with a dash of confusion.

Strange…

She watches, later, from her window, as Morgause spars with a ghost partner. She can’t quite shake that feeling, as if they’d met somewhere before.

Later that night, as she and Merlin are back on their regularly scheduled shenanigans, Merlin moans about his job(s) as usual.

“Arthur told me, to ask Morgause, if she’d withdraw.” he mutters, dramatically drawing out his syllables as he does when he’s feeling rather inconvenienced.

“Yeah? And what happened?”

“Aside from being held at swordpoint for the duration of our chat, she just told me to tell him, that if he doesn’t want to fight, then _he_ should withdraw. And that it’s not in her nature to quit. And that it’s too damn bad that I’m curious about the nature of her challenge, it’s none of my concern.”

“She said all that?”

He blinks up at her, from where he lay on the ground.

“Not word for word.” he admits. “But, y’know, the attitude was there. I mean I know I’m only a servant, but, hell, even a bloody troll treated me better than half the guests and challengers that come through Camelot.”

“Until she tried to have you killed.”

“Right, there’s that.”

Normally, she’d laugh. But as it is…

“I…does she seem familiar, to you?” Morgana asks.

“No, why?”

“I just…get the feeling that I’ve met her somewhere, before.”

He furrows his brow, chews his lip in thought for a moment.

“Perhaps you had a dream that you don’t remember?”

“I…I always remember them, Merlin. But…maybe?”

There’s no way to tell. She makes a mental note to ask Gaius, at some point.

 

Despite her best efforts, Morgana can’t get into the excitement of the duel with the rest of the crowd. She’s worried for Arthur, yes, but, some part of her worries for Morgause. It’s strange, but part of her feels as if she’s watching family members fight. But that’s…that’s ridiculous, right? Arthur is _like_ a brother to her, certainly, and she’s always been tense watching him duel, but this feels so different.

She nearly cries out when he cuts Morgause. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Merlin give her a curious look.

She’s not sure how long she can take this. Her heart feels about ready to burst, she can feel her chest heave with the anxiety coursing through her, and she’s not sure where it’s come from.

And then it’s over as soon as it began. Arthur is on the ground, the tip of Morgause’s blade placed to his heart. Morgana’s heart pounds harder in her chest. Across the way, Merlin is tense, ready to step in and take action whenever necessary.

Only…it’s not necessary. Morgause is holding a hand out to Arthur, pulling him upright, and then leaving the field.

She’s not sure what, exactly, compels her to seek out Morgause in her chambers, but regardless, she’s there, and…the conversation doesn’t do much to ease her mind. Morgause doesn’t recall meeting her anywhere, at any time, but her attitude seems…strange. Like she harbors a fondness for Morgana, although they’ve never met. She even offers a healing bracelet, as a gift. One such gift that Morgana cannot accept.

Her and Merlin discuss this, in their usual clearing, that night.

“She is…very strange.” Merlin admits. “I…can’t decide if she’s friend or foe. She honestly just seems…neutral? I suppose?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it neutral.” Morgana murmurs. “I’m not sure what I’d call it.”

The silence is thick, and heavy. It weighs down on them both, for some reason. At least, it does Morgana.

“Let’s call it early.” Merlin offers. And for once, Morgana doesn’t argue that.

In the morning, well, more close to the afternoon, when she finally wakes up to Gwen’s shaking, she notes the healing bracelet Morgause had tried to give her rests at the end of her bed.

She might as well…

(She might as well help Arthur and Merlin sneak out a few nights later, while she’s at it.)

 

It seems to Morgana, that this is just a week for people to act strangely. Even Gaius seems affected by it, once he catches sight of her bracelet.

He seems like he’s thinking very carefully of what he’s going to say about it.

“I…the time for secret keeping has long since passed us by.” he says, softly. “Sit down, my dear.”

“Gaius…you seem troubled…” she murmurs, but she does as she’s told anyhow.

“That bracelet you wear bears the mark of your father, Gorlois.”

Everything stops. Time itself seems to freeze.

“It would seem that Morgause is your sister.”

She’s not sure what to say, aside from the dumb utterance of,

“I…have a sister? How come nobody told me…?”

“She was smuggled out of Camelot as a child, long before you were born. I didn’t even know if she was still alive.”

It’s…a lot to take in. All this time, she’d had a sister. Why hadn’t her parents told her, why hadn’t Uther? Well, she supposes there’s no sense in asking about that. She finds herself in one of those dazes, where she floats about the castle, unsure what to do with herself. Again, she doesn’t have Merlin to talk to, and, though she desperately wants to talk to Gwen about it, something…stops her from doing that.

She wants to ask Gaius for more details, but some part of her is, well, annoyed with him, for not having told her either. She had a right to know, hadn’t she? It’s her _family_ , for gods’ sakes. Her one living family member. And she hadn’t even got to know her until she was nearly in her twenties. And now, well, now she’s not so sure she’ll see her sister again.

So she’s frustrated. She’s angry. She’s _hurt_. And at the moment, all she wants is Merlin. To vent to him, to hold him, to be held by him.

(She’s not going to mention that it’s gotten to the point where she can’t imagine her life without him by her side.)

Maybe she should’ve gone with them. At least she’d have two of her very best friends with her when her world was flipped on its head. _Again_. That’s twice, in one year, can’t the gods leave her alone? Though…she did get something good out of the first surprise; several good things, in fact, despite her initial fear. Maybe another good thing would come of this surprise.

She can only hope.

 

She wants to be relieved when her boys return home, but, as has been the case almost _always_ in Camelot these past few years, they seem off. Angry, the both of them. Not at each other, no, but still angry.

Her and Gaius are the first to greet Merlin, Arthur having marched past them with purpose. They let him be for now. But the _look_ that Merlin gives Gaius, once again, perfectly emcompasses everything Morgana has felt the last few days. How they became so in sync with literally everything they do, Morgana will never know. Regardless,

“Arthur was born of magic?” he’s asking, his voice low, somewhat dangerous sounding. “Uther used magic to obtain an heir?”

That…absolute… _hypocrite!_

But suddenly, as Morgana looks on Gaius’ face, his weathered, tired face, she can’t be mad at him anymore. Once upon a time, he was a young man, and he too made stupid decisions, but unlike ordinary men, his still haunt him to this day.

“Yes.” he answers softly.

“He sacrificed Igraine’s life for Arthur. Uther as well as murdered her.”

“Merlin.” Morgana butts in softly. “Did you expect anything less from a man like him?”

There’s a scoff escaping his lips.

“Right. Suppose not.” he mutters. “I have to go find Arthur. I don’t know what he’s going to do when he finds Uther, but I know he’ll probably regret it.”

He breaks off at a run then, leaving Morgana and Gaius to stare at each other, dumbfounded.

By the time they get their wits about them, and run to catch up, Merlin’s already halfway there. They can hear Arthur before they reach the council chambers, they can hear him say everything Morgana’s said, everything Merlin’s said.

And when they enter, Morgana can _feel_ the pain Merlin does as he says,

“Morgause is lying. She…” he sighs. “She’s an enchantress. It’s what she does. She tricked you into thinking you were seeing your mother. It was an illusion. Every…” it sounds like it takes a great deal of effort to keep talking. “Everything your mother said to you. Those were Morgause’s words.”

“You don’t know that!”

And, oh, her heart goes out to Arthur. The three of them are going to need a great deal of healing time, after these past few days.

“This was her plan, all along, Arthur.” she finds herself saying. She doesn’t believe it, not for a second, but she knows, as well as Merlin knows, that Arthur would not be able to live with the regret of killing Uther. Not one bit. It would… “It would tear the kingdom apart, if you kill him, Arthur. She knows that.”

Merlin looks over at her, offers a tiny, sad smile, that she returns.

“Listen to them, Arthur. They speak the truth.”

Why does Morgana feel as if she and Merlin just lost a battle?

 

“You did the right thing yesterday, you know.” she tells him later. She’s lounging at the table, as Merlin takes inventory of Gaius’ stalls. “Keeping him from killing Uther. The guilt would have crushed him.”

“Wish I could believe that.” he mutters. “That I did the right thing. Gods know this kingdom would be better off without Uther. And we both know the truth. That Uther is a lying hypocrite. That he burned and drowned and beheaded _innocent_ people, because of something _he_ did. How can I live with that, Morgana? Knowing I defended such an…odious man?”

“Don’t give yourself all the credit. I helped. And forsook my own sister in the process.”

Merlin finally looks back at her, at that.

“Your sis-? Morgause is your sister. No wonder you felt like you knew her…”

“You don’t seem all that surprised.”

“Honestly? After two years living here? Nothing surprises me anymore.” he sighs, finally turns around fully, and leans against a post. “And, according to Arthur, it’s thanks to me that it’s once again clear to him that our kind are evil, and dangerous. And, according to Uther, as per earlier this evening, I am a valuable ally. In the war. Against magic.” there’s a pause, and she’s biting down hard on her lip to stifle the laughter that wants to burst out of her. “Oh, no, go ahead and laugh. It’s hilarious.”

So she does. It takes her a full two minutes, before she can breathe again, and she’s wiping away tears.

“Oh, Merlin.” She sighs. “Valuable ally against magic, evil and dangerous. The latter sounds like much more fun. Let’s run away and be evil and dangerous together, Merls.”

“Y’know what, Morgana? That option sounds better and better, every day.”

“Amen.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a rather damaging turn for our favourite duo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof actual plot begins now. Trigger warnings for implied/referenced rape

Morgana corresponds with Morgause, through letters. It started with her and Merlin both sending one to apologise profusely for undermining her, for painting this portrait of a liar where she’d only tried to show Arthur the truth. Sure, they acknowledge only to each other that her end goal _was_ the death of Uther Pendragon, and, hell, they _live_ in the very castle Uther also resides in, and they’re being patient, aren’t they?

Merlin accepts it when only Morgana gets a letter in return. Morgause is her sister, after all, and Merlin (foolishly) maintains that he’s not all that likable, something Morgause seems to agree with, though she doesn’t say it directly.

But, after the first few, the letters become a regular thing, and Morgana looks forward to seeing the raven at her window at night. And, besides all that, things seem…peaceful, in Camelot, for _once_. The pair of young adults find themselves enjoying warmer weather, the fresh smell of spring in the air, and the thrum of magic in their veins as they continue to sneak off into the forest at night. They’ve become quite skilled, the both of them, and it’s something of a game to them to see who can do what the best. Morgana, frustratingly, almost _always_ loses.

Though, of course, what else should she expect from the boy who’s rumored to be the most powerful sorcerer in the world?

They’re never not in a good mood, the pair of them. Merlin’s brilliant smile lights up the entire palace, Morgana swears it does. They’re closer than ever, it seems, which is really saying something.

“I love you.” Merlin murmurs one night.

And somehow, it doesn’t catch Morgana by surprise, at all. She thought it was just a given, between the two, an unspoken connection they both felt.

“Well, of course.” she teases. “You don’t mean to tell me that you didn’t know that I love you, too?”

“Oh, you do, do you?”

Cheeky bugger.

“I do, yeah.”

“Oh, good to know.”

She finds she rather likes the feel of his lips pressed against her own.

It continues like this. Sometimes they skip their studies altogether, in favour of kissing beneath the moonlight. It’s not that they _mean_ to neglect their work, it’s just that they find each other rather distracting. They know they ought to be careful; if they’re caught Uther might very well have them _both_ killed, but, young and dumb as they are, all caution was thrown to the wind, long ago.

Gwen certainly knows something’s up, and Arthur, too. But they’ve no room to say anything, going by how often they sneak off into the night together, as well. There _was_ that one rather embarrassing time they’d run into each other on their way back into the palace, just before dawn.

(Gwen’s good for Arthur, Morgana thinks. She’s sweet, and kind, but she’s not afraid to tell it how it is, and she doesn’t take any form bullshit from anyone.)

If anyone finds it strange that Morgana spends her free time in the physician’s chambers (but only when Gaius and/or Merlin are around), nobody says a word.

But then, with the fading of spring, and of summer, Merlin starts acting strangely. Well, more so than usual. It started one night when Gaius had him deliver a tonic to Uther’s chambers. He’d returned looking pale, shaken, and had refused to say a word to either Gaius or Morgana, merely shut himself in his room for the rest of the night.

It goes on like this for some time. After Arthur dismissed Merlin for the night, he’d disappear, and instead of offering some excuse to Morgana the next day, he’d just ignore her, avoid her even. She tries not to take it personally, but, well…she’s only human.

At first she’s hurt. She’s sad that Merlin would just…drop her like that. And then, well, then she’s angry. He could’ve offered her the common courtesy of telling her exactly _why_ he’d stopped talking to her altogether. If he doesn’t like her anymore, he might as well tell her to her face.

She has enough, one night, and is determined to corner him, demand an explanation. So she waits in the corridor, pacing just outside the door as she waits for Merlin to return from his daily duties. Gaius had poked his head out, curiously, at some point, and might’ve asked something along the lines of ‘are you alright?’ or, ‘care to come in?’ but she’d not heard him, stewing in her thoughts. He’d left her alone after he figured out he wasn’t going to get anything out of her.

The only problem…she feels as if she’s been there for _hours_ , when he finally shows up. It must be well past midnight by the time she spots him, trudging down the corridor, eyes trained on the stone floor.

“Merlin, I swear to the gods above, you’d better have a good-!”

She stops short when she really gets a _good_ look at him. He seems to have lost quite a bit of weight; his tunic hangs off him more than it already had. He’s pale enough as it is, but at this moment, he’s white as a sheet, the dark circles under his eyes only that much more prominent, as a result. His hair sticks up in all different directions, as she’s seen it do when he grips it in frustration, or when she’s ran her fingers through it during a particularly passionate snogging session.

Her blood runs cold when he stops in front of her, startled by her outburst, looking at her, but _through_ her, almost.

His skin is marred with bruises, and he doesn’t wear his neckerchief, or his bindings. No, both of those are clutched close to his chest, gripped by shaking hands. Dark, ugly marks stand out on the pale skin of his neck, and Morgana feels sick to her stomach as she recognises them as _teeth_ marks. She starts piecing together the narrative, and the more her mind tries to make sense of it, the faster she feels the bile crawl its way up her throat.

“Merlin.” she says softly, places her hands on his cheeks, hoping to the gods above that it grounds him, in some way. “Merlin, love, please.” he looks at her then, properly looks at her, and she feels helpless to do anything but watch as his eyes well up with tears. “Who did this to you?”

His jaw clenches, the muscles in his cheek twinge. All he can do is shake his head, as if to say, ‘not here’, like he doesn’t trust himself to speak right about now. Morgana winces, gently takes him by the hand.

“Let’s get you inside. How about a warm bath?”

He lets her lead him inside, and when Gaius looks up, he immediately looks as if someone delivered a blow to his gut.

“My boy, what happened to you?” he’s demanding. Again, Merlin shakes his head. “Are you injured anywhere else?”

A grimace, and a nod. He looks like he’s trying awfully hard not to cry.

“I’m going to fetch water for a bath.” Morgana whispers. She’s happy to do it herself, and she needs the distraction from her thoughts. She knows she just as easily can conjure it, but the trip up and down the stairs is something to _do_ , other than wonder who the culprit is. How anyone could do that to Merlin, sweet, gentle, _kind_ Merlin, she has no idea.

There’s a long, dreadfully heavy pause, when Morgana finishes the task she set for herself, as Merlin stares at the tub, not saying anything, remaining horribly still. The silence is deafening.

“Can I have some privacy, please?” it comes out as a choked rasp, and is perhaps the first thing Morgana’s heard him say in days.

“Of course, love.” Morgana whispers.

“We’ll be right outside the door, if you need anything.” Gaius murmurs.

Morgana’s dazed, for several moments, even as the door shuts with a soft click behind them. She stares ahead at the wall, trying to make sense of the whole situation. No, she’s not ignorant to sex, and how damaging it can be when forced on a person, but the more she tries to connect the dots, the more she finds her thoughts muddled. Once she gets her wits about her, she whispers,

“Who could’ve done this to him?”

“I’m sure I don’t know.” Gaius murmurs back. But, Morgana notices that he’s got that tone to his voice, the one he uses when he _does_ know the answer, or at least has an inkling. Morgana looks over at him, and she’s sure she meant to scowl, but all she can manage is a tired look.

“Please don’t lie to me. Not right now.”

Gaius’ lips press together in a thin line, and it seems to Morgana that he’s at war with his thoughts; to tell Morgana, or to not? Finally, he speaks,

“Remember, a few weeks ago, when I had Merlin run a tonic to Uther, for his shoulder?”

“Yes…”

“And how he acted strangely, afterwards? I asked him what happened in the morning, and he refused to say anything on the matter. Only reassured me that his secret, and yours, were still safe, and that’s all that mattered. It continued like that for weeks. He’s been coming home late, refusing to talk about why. This…I’ve never seen him this bad off, until today…”

Oh, _gods_. Of course, that made sense. If anyone would… _do that_ to Merlin, it was Uther. But _why_? Merlin never did anything to Uther directly. He’s always been perfectly respectful to the king himself. And Merlin…Merlin is a wonderful person. He’s quite possibly the best man Morgana has ever had the pleasure of meeting.

She finds her palms are sweaty, her heart is pounding, her face feels hot, almost as if she’s nervous. No, not nervous. She’s…she’s angry. Properly angry. She feels as if she could actually kill a man. And if she sees Uther, she just might.

Gaius looks like he might be ill, and only hesitates a small bit when Morgana suggests he get some air. She’s back to pacing, after he leaves, chewing on her nails, and gripping her hair. She wants to cry, she wants to scream, and shout, and hit something. Merlin didn’t deserve what happened to him. Nobody deserves that.

Again, she loses track of time. Morgana waits outside, until Merlin either calls for her or opens the door himself. It’s not until she hears the faintest whimper from inside the room that she acts, throwing the door open and rushing in to see what’s wrong.

The sight that greets her might as well have shattered her heart. Merlin struggles with his bindings, his skin raw and red from where he’d scrubbed it too hard, and she can tell just by looking at him that he’s wrapping his bindings way too tight. He’s crying, has been, probably, since her and Gaius left the room, and he’s shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Merlin! Merlin, love, stop!” it’s not until she stays his hands that he does indeed stop, giving her the most pitifully tortured look she’s ever seen. “It’s…” she stops that sentiment right there. It most certainly is not alright. “Let me help you. Is it alright if I do?”

She waits for his answering nod, before she shuts the door with a wave of her hand and a quiet hum of magic, and unwraps his bindings for him. She restarts them carefully, wraps them with care. It’s quiet, the only sounds being an occasional sniffle from Merlin, and the whisper of fabric.

When her hands are empty once more, she reaches up to place them gently on either side of his face, just as she had done who-knows-how-long-ago when she’d seen him in such a horrible state. He meets her eyes, finally, as she thumbs away his tears.

“I’m so sorry.” she whispers. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” his hands find her waist, gently grip at the fabric of her dress, and he looks like he’s trying _very_ hard to think of what to say. He needn’t say anything.

Instead of speaking anymore, Morgana embraces him, lays her head against his chest, and hopes to the gods above that it offers some form of comfort. His shoulders hunch, he sags in her arms, and she can feel it, as his frame is wracked with quiet sobs. Morgana finds herself again in a position where there’s nothing she can say, nothing she can do aside from attempt to hush and soothe him, carefully card her fingers through wet hair.

She doesn’t turn around immediately, when the door opens, thinking it’s Gaius coming back. But the voice that speaks doesn’t belong to her friend and teacher.

“I’m sorry to intrude so late, but I’m looking for— Merlin?”

When Morgana turns around, she almost instinctively pushes Merlin behind her, poorly shielding him from view, holding her arms out protectively, and glares at Arthur. She wordlessly _dares_ him to do anything, say anything. Merlin’s chest heaves against her back, his breath comes in short, ragged pants against her hair, and at the back of her mind, Morgana fears he might actually pass out.

It’s tortuously quiet for a few moments. Morgana glaring, Arthur’s face stuck on an expression of dumb shock, and if Morgana were to glance back at Merlin, she knows she’d see terror written across his handsome face.

Unsurprisingly, it’s Merlin that acts first, turning around and pulling his tunic on in a hurry. He glances back at the other two, opens his mouth to say something, shuts it, and promptly runs into his room, the door slamming behind him. There’s a dull thump against the door, and Morgana can guess he’s supporting himself against it.

Arthur finds that he is, in fact, not a mute. Though the power of speech does not seem to be his strong point, at this moment.

“I…he…she…?” he stutters. “She’s not—?”

“ _He_.” Morgana corrects severely, “He’s as much a man as you are, Arthur.” she hisses. “Maybe even more so. Just because he doesn’t have the same parts, that doesn’t make him any less of a man.”

Again, his face is drawn in shock, this time at the heat in Morgana’s voice. He slowly makes his way over to the table, sits down heavily and stares at the floor. Morgana _would_ have sympathy for him, truly, but she finds she rather cares more about Merlin’s plight, than Arthur’s. Still, she has mercy on him, anyway. She sighs, goes and shuts the door, and returns to sit next to the prince.

“How long have you known?” he asks, quietly.

“Almost a year, now.” she answers, evenly. Arthur scrubs his hands down his face, scoffs lightly at himself.

“I feel like a rotten friend.” he murmurs. “I— I wish I’d known, honestly. All the times I said, ‘don’t be such a girl, Merlin.’ Gods, that—,” he grimaces.

“You weren’t to know.” Morgana sighs. “He’s rather good at keeping secrets.”

“I’ll say. No wonder he always looks like he’s something to hide.”

Well. That, and one other reason.

“Morgana?”

“Mm?”

“What…what happened to him? Why was he all bruised up?” he whispers.

There’s that burning rage, again. Morgana clenches her teeth, balls her hands up into fists so hard they shake.

“Your father happened.” she hisses. Arthur’s response is to give her a look of total confusion.

But then he thinks about it.

Morgana watches as slowly, his expression turns form that of incomprehension to one of understanding, and then disgust, mixed with something like…fear? His face loses every ounce of colour, now ghostly white, and he, too, clenches his fists so hard that the colour drains from his knuckles, as well.

“ _Why_?” he asks through clenched teeth, and his voice shakes with anger.

“I’m certain I don’t know.”

“There’s no reason.” Merlin’s voice startles them both from the doorway of his room. They hadn’t heard it open. “Aside from my anatomy. And his…his need for control, and for power.”

“Merlin.” Arthur greets, and, my, does he certainly look and sound like an idiot in this moment. “I…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Merlin answers, though the smile he attempts to send their way is weak, and shaky. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. _Can_ do, even.”

“What do you mean by that?” Arthur asks lowly, carefully. Merlin’s already-barely-there smile becomes even harder for him to maintain, and again, his eyes brim with tears. He approaches on shaking legs when Morgana urges for him to sit down, and Arthur gives up his spot for him, something he seems grateful for, as he leans tiredly against Morgana.

“He hasn’t stopped.” Merlin whispers. “I…he’s never gone quite this _far_ before.”

“How long has this been going on?” Morgana hates to ask, and her voice comes out as a raspy whisper as she does, but she just wants to piece everything together.

“A…a few weeks.” answers Merlin. “Since I brought his tonic to him, that one time. He hadn’t…I mean he never-,”

“That’s alright, Merlin. Don’t…don’t make yourself relive it.” Arthur murmurs.

“He didn’t stop.” Merlin whispers, ignoring him. “I- he hadn’t _touched_ me before just- just forced me to-,” he’s gesturing, quite vaguely, but Morgana feels she understands what he’s trying to say. “So I don’t know what changed, tonight, but when he felt…” he’s squeezing his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around his middle. “When he felt something different than what he was expecting, he…well, he was angry, to say the very least. And…and he just… _took_ me.” Morgana’s heart clenches at his words, at the sound of his voice. “Over, and over, and- and he’s not going to stop. He’s never going to stop. I can’t- I can’t _do_ anything, I can’t-!”

“Merlin.” Morgana says, in unison with Arthur this time.

“Merlin, I can promise you.” Arthur says, voice steady even as he kneels down to meet Merlin’s eyes, (his servant, his friend, his _brother_ for all intents and purposes.) a solid attempt to comfort him. “I can promise you. He won’t touch you, not ever again, do you understand?”

“If he comes anywhere near you, I’ll kill him myself.” mutters Morgana.

And she really believes she will.

 

It takes them a while to convince Merlin to sleep. Arthur is determined to make sure he rests through the _day_ , after all that happened to him. But, honestly, it’s not until Gaius returns, and agrees to sit with him, that he finally does sleep. Where Morgana usually would’ve teased him about needing an adult to stay with him to scare off the monsters, she doesn’t dare breathe a word about it at this moment.

Suddenly, she’s reminded that he’s only seventeen. She never really noticed just how… _young_ he was. Sure, he’s considered an adult, but really, he’s not. He’s just a boy. And at the moment, he needs an adult he trusts, a man that’s been like a father to him, a man he knows won’t hurt him, to be by his side.

It’s near dawn, by the time Gaius exits Merlin’s room, shutting the door behind him with a quiet _click_.

“We’ve got to get him out of Camelot.” Morgana finds herself saying. “He said himself, Uther won’t stop. And with the kind of man Uther is, no offense, Arthur, but he’s a _horrible_ man. The only reason we stopped you from killing him was for you, not him. Morgause never lied.”

Arthur seems to take that remarkably well, for how angry he’d been. He merely hangs his head in defeat, clasps his hands together on the table.

“I…thank you.” he murmurs. “But you should’ve let me. I would’ve done, and had I known what he’d _do_ , I would’ve felt no guilt.”

“You don’t know that.” Morgana tells him. “Just…it’s different. We already know he made so many suffer, but it’s different when it’s someone close to you. At that point he’d done nothing to Merlin, except maybe be a little rude to him. That’s why we have to get Merlin out of Camelot, Arthur. And that’s why I’m going to leave, as well. Because I…” she’s shaking her head. “I _will_ kill him if I see him, especially anywhere near Merlin.”

Arthur stares at her then, expression unreadable. For several moments, he says nothing. And then,

“Then we need a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Merlin. I'm sorry, sweet boy TT_TT


End file.
